Gentle
by Sebastian the Mercat
Summary: Some of Nathan's medication is stolen from his locker, and he has to suffer the consequences. However, he doesn't have to suffer alone. Additional warnings inside.


**_Salutations! I hope you enjoy this lovely bit of fluffy angst!_**

 ** _Main characters: Nathan, Max, Warren_**

 ** _Other characters: Mrs. Hoida_**

 ** _Pairing: None, really...I mean, you can read in Nathan/Max, Nathan/Warren, Warren/Max, or Nathan/Max/Warren...cause I mean, all those pairings are adorable to the MAX!_**

 ** _Warnings: Over-medication (?), medical stuff, description of a seizure, language_**

* * *

Nathan honestly hated swimming, but his father "insisted" that the school let him on the team. So he was stuck getting up ridiculously early every morning to go do something he hated.

Most of the time he managed to "convince" the coach to let him merely watch, sitting on the side of the pool, where he would spend most of his time staring off into space, waiting for the joke of a practice to be over.

Nathan was doing exactly that, that morning. He was slouched forward, his hooded eyes staring at the gentle rippling of the pool water. He felt less high-strung than usual that particular morning, for he had blazed up before heading out. Nathan honestly hated how much he relied on the grass to feel normal - he thought his meds were supposed to do that, unaided. But no, they usually only made him feel worse.

Speaking of which...

The coach's whistle blew, and the practice was over. He was still speaking to them, but Nathan honestly didn't give a fuck, as he made his way into the guys' locker rooms.

His locker was shoved off in the corner, secluded from the rest. He didn't use it for much, as he never changed clothes, but he did use it for something.

He heaved open the locker, reaching for the top shelf, as well as the water bottle he had already stored away.

Like a well-oiled machine, he began his process.

He threw back the Risperdone first, followed by a swig of water. He always took the Risperdone first - he had forgotten to take it one day, and everything had been a blur. The next day had woken up with bloodied knuckles and his room completely destroyed. As such, it was not an incident he would have liked to repeat.

The next three pills were tiny with names too big for Nathan to even care to remember. But his doctor said he needed them, so who was he to argue?

Next was two Behr: Back and Body pills. They weren't necessarily prescribed...but they helped with the headache that came as a result from taking all the other pills.

And then-

Nathan froze. His hand moved around the top shelf of his locker.

No.

He immediately jumped up on the ledge, his body suddenly awake.

No.

There was nothing there - no more bottles.

No.

Immediately, Nathan felt his heart beating faster, his lungs expanding and contracting so quickly it made him feel dizzy.

The panic and anxiety that had ceased Nathan evaporated as soon as heard the sounds of his fellow Otters entering the locker room. He slammed his locker shut loudly, turning to pin them all in place with a fierce glare.

"Who. Took. It."

Everyone stared at him with wide eyes, glancing at each other. Nathan ground his teeth, his crazed eyes narrowing further.

"Who. Took. IT?!" he demanded, slamming his fist sideways into the locker beside him.

The volume of his voice must have been loud enough to hear in the pool area, for the coach cane rushing in, his eyes wide with confusion. "What is going on-"

"One of those..." Nathan gritted his teeth, thrusting out a finger to point at the other boys. "...fuckers stole something of mine."

The coach crossed his arms, giving Nathan a stern look. "Now, that kind of language is unacceptable, Mr. Prescott. Also, accusing your fellow teammates without due cause-"

"I don't GIVE A FUCK!" Nathan roared. Several of his teammates took a step back, though his coach stood his ground.

"Mr. Prescott. One more outburst like that, and I will be forced to write you up."

Nathan's eyes darted from his coach's stony gaze to his teammates' scared and confused ones.

He felt his body begin to shake, and he wished that the shaking was only coming from the rage built up inside of him.

Without another word, he barged through the gathered crowd, storming out the door.

As soon as he was out of the pool building, he took off running.

* * *

When Nathan arrived at the pharmacy, he was a mess. He was sweaty, shaky, and his hair was falling into his eyes. He had stripped off his jacket as well, for it only made him hotter. The sun was a bit above the horizon as well, which didn't help.

He breathlessly made his way to the counter, trying to calm himself down, so he didn't look so suspicious. He ran a hand through his messy hair before leaning on the counter in what he hoped was a completely relaxed pose.

"May I help you?" a female voice inquired, carefully eyeing him up and down.

Nathan felt irritation bubble up within him at the judging look, but kept it buried - it would do no good to lash out at the person he was seeking help from.

"Yeah," he murmured, running a hand through his hair again. "My name is Nathan Prescott. I have a prescription for Diazepam that I need refilled."

The woman gave him a suspicious look. "Do you have an ID?"

Nathan pulled out his ID - the only reason he had an ID was because his medical condition in combination with the load of meds he was on made him unsuited to drive, and as such, unsuited to have a driver's license.

The woman glanced over the card, before turning to walk back into the isles of meds.

Nathan stood at the counter fidgetting. He kept looking at the time - he was going to be late to his first class.

Normally, he didn't give a fuck about that sort of thing. But missing class in combination with his earlier outburst...his father would be contacted for sure.

And that wasn't necessarily something Nathan desired to go through.

The woman arrived back, but she wasn't carrying a little brown prescription bag like Nathan would have liked. No - in her hands, she held a slip of paper.

And she wore a frown on her lips. Not a good sign.

"I'm sorry Mr. Prescott, but I am not at liberty to refill your prescription at this time."

Panic clawed its way through his body, but he fought it down. "Why...not...?" he bit out.

She glanced up at him, before looking down at the paper. "It says on here that your prescription was refilled a week and a half ago. As such, there should still be a little more than half a month's worth of pills left."

Nathan slammed his hand on the counter. "Don't you think I fucking know that?!" he growled. "Somebody stole my fucking pill bottle!"

The pharmacy lady narrowed her eyes. "Take a step back, sir, or I will be forced to contact security."

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to breath. By then, it felt like his entire body was experiencing some sort of mini-earthquake.

"Please," he hissed under his breath. "Please, I need that pill. I...I need it..."

The woman sighed, turning away. "I'm sorry Mr. Prescott. As this pill is not a required pill to your health, and is merely a pill to help you deal with the side effects of your other pills, I am not at liberty to prescribe you anything at this time. Have a good day."

Nathan couldn't take it one second longer. He once again found himself storming out of a building where no one was willing to help him. As he stood in the hot sun, his body quivering, he muttered, "Just another shitty day," before heading off back to school.

* * *

Nathan opened the door to his Intro to Literature class as quietly as possible, holding his breath as he tip-toed to his seat...

"Mr. Prescott. You're late," Mrs. Hoida deadpanned. He squeezed his eyes shut, as he dropped down into his chair.

The room was dead-silent, for which Nathan was at least semi-grateful. He knew that if it had been any other poor sap to be caught sneaking in, the entire classroom would have erupted into giggles.

As it were, it was Nathan that had been caught - and a very not-sane looking Nathan at that.

He knew he probably looked like absolute shit: Getting up early in combination with all the running he had done that morning made him look like some sort of volatile zombie about to attack anyone that dared to provoke him.

Of course, then there were the shakes.

Nathan gritted his teeth, before grinding them back in forth. No matter how much he focused on his quivering limbs, they would not still.

Mrs. Hoida droned on and on, occasionally calling on someone to give an answer to whatever the fuck they were talking about. Nathan normally couldn't care less, but today...he would have given anything to focus on something other than his body.

Nathan allowed his head to dip down, settling on his arms. He knew that everything would get worse - he'd experienced all this before he'd been prescribed the Diazepam. He knew the shakes would grow worse and worse throughout the day. He knew that his muscles and joints would start aching, from their trying to control the erratic movements.

He also knew that the risk of him having a pretty bad seizure was rather high.

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists. As soon as this class was over, he'd do the thing he never dared: He would text his father - that's how desperate he was to cut off the symptoms before they got worse.

Until then...he just needed to breath.

In.

And out.

In.

And out.

In-

A hand gently tapped his shoulder. Immediately, his head shot up, his eyes opened wide.

Mrs. Hoida stood in front of him, a tardy slip held in her hand. However, her face wasn't how it usually was when she looked at him. It was...

It was concerned.

"Mr. Prescott, a couple of your peers informed me that you seemed rather ill today in class, and I must admit, I agree with them," she began. "You acted completely out of character today, and even now, you're shaking like a leaf!"

Nathan glared at her, as he whipped the tardy slip out of her hand, shoving it into his pocket. "I'm fine," he muttered, heading as quickly as he could manage to the door.

"Mr. Prescott-" she called once more, but he ignored him, as he stomped out the door-

Almost running into two of the people he wished to see least. So it was THEM who had talked to the teacher.

He glared at Max Caufield and Warren Graham, before pushing through them. "Stay the FUCK outta my business," he growled over his shoulder, flipping them off.

* * *

Max and Warren hesitantly reentered Mrs. Hoida's classroom.

"So...how'd it go?" Warren asked, his tone light. Mrs. Hoida seemed less-than-amused.

"I must say, he does seem very sick - which is rather worrisome...however, I honestly cannot help him if he will not allow me to."

Max shifted, looking uncomfortable. "But...can't you go to the nurse or something? Tell her that Nathan is acting really weird?" She sighed heavily. "Warren and I sit right behind him, and the ENTIRE time, he was shaking really badly."

"I understand that Miss Caufield-"

"Believe me, neither of us would be telling you about this if we didn't thing there was something seriously wrong with him!" Warren said. "Believe me. There's no love lost between us."

Mrs. Hoida sighed. "I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do." At Max's and Warren's expressions, she added, "If you two want to ensure that he remain upright, then I suggest you keep an eye on him."

Warren glanced at Max, shrugging. She shrugged back at him, before they quickly left the classroom in pursuit of Nathan.

* * *

Nathan had managed to make it back to the dorms and quickly went behind them. His shaking was getting worse by the moment, and he didn't want anyone to be present for the inevitable conclusion to this disaster.

He leaned against the shaded side of the building, letting his eyes fall close. The distant sounds of his classmates hanging out and having fun echoed in his ears. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He stuck it in between his teeth, as he fished out a lighter.

However, as he tried to light it up, his hand shook too much, and the flame licked at his face. He immediately dropped the lighter, his hand coming up to rub the burnt spot.

Or rather, his hand tried to.

The cigarette fell to the ground, and Nathan soon followed. It was as though his body wasn't working properly - that he couldn't control it. It was as though there was someone else controlling him, making his limbs jump and twitch like some sort of demented puppet - that his brain was disconnected to his body.

He felt his fingers curling, digging into the soil, his breaths coming in wheezing gasps, his heart feeling like it was rocketing out of his chest.

He felt his body stretching and then being squished together once more. He felt like he was being torn apart.

Nathan felt completely and utterly terrified.

As Nathan's body managed to curl into a fetal position, he distantly heard a panicked shout, and then the pounding of feet.

Suddenly, his field of vision was obscured by two blurry faces - why were they blurry? - and then there were two sets of warm hands trying to pin him down.

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head turning side to side. Who were these people?! What were they trying to do to him?! What did they WANT?!

The hands almost immediately left him, and there was sounds of talking in the distant. And then the warm hands gently settled on both sides of his head - softly but firmly, the thumbs of those hands rubbing his temples gently.

Gently.

Nathan felt one of his hands being pulled from the place it was clawing at the dirt, being gently held, gently caressed...

Oh, so gently...

Nathan felt the shakes begin to subside, felt himself falling back into his body. He felt the cold sweat all over his skin. He felt the liquid still leaking out of his shut eyes. He felt cold and shaky and sick in general...

But those hands remained, warm, gentle, like something to hold onto...something to attach him to reality.

Those hands were warm.

Those hands were gentle.

Those hands made him feel safe...

* * *

It hadn't been that hard to carry Nathan back to his dorm - he was, after all, the same height as both Max and Warren. However, getting him back there discreetly had been another story.

They ended up having to wait until the afternoon classes began to get him back there - of course, they had been hoping that he would have woken up before then, but no such luck.

Once in his room, Max had worked on getting a cool cloth to place on Nathan's forehead, as Warren stripped off the other boy's jacket and shoes.

Several sweaty minutes later, Nathan was sprawled out on his bed sleeping peacefully, and Max and Warren were sitting beside him.

"That was...insane..." Max breathed.

Warren laughed slightly. "Heck yeah it was. Who would've thought that we'd spend today helping out Nathan fucking Prescott?"

Max shook her head. "I wouldn't have."

Warren eventually got bored with just sitting there, and went over to his room to grab his Rubic's Cube before returning. Max, however, got up and looked over all the photos and such hanging around Nathan's room.

"He does a lot of black and whites," she mused. "He also is really good at setting up his photos...I wonder why he's not in the advanced photography class?"

Warren rose an eyebrow. "Hazarding a guess here...but I'm assuming it's because it's a class full of Jefferson fangirls.

Max gave him a look. "I'm not a Jafferson fangirl."

Warren's other eyebrow rose.

Max turned away. "Well, he's a really good teacher."

Warren laughed.

Their joking was interrupted, however, by a groan coming from the bed. Max and Warren were immediately by Nathan's side, watching as he brought a shaky hand up to rub his face. He froze, however, as his hand came in contact with the wet cloth. Slowly his eyes opened, staring at Max and Warren in shock.

"What..." he ground out, his voice hoarse, "...are you doing here...?"

"We...saw you collapse..." Max said hesitantly.

Warren quickly cut in, his inner doctor taking over. "Do you remember what happened?" When Nathan didn't say anything, merely looking at Warren like he couldn't comprehend why he was there, Warren continued. "You had a seizure...a pretty serious one, I think..."

Nathan forced himself to sit up, in spite of the weakness his body exuded. "Okay...well, that still doesn't explain what the fuck you two are doing in my dorm."

Warren blinked in shock, but Max stepped forward, an irritated expression on her face. "We helped you, you ass!"

Nathan looked back and forth between Warren and Max. Both took a step back, fearing the inevitable explosion...but that didn't happen.

Instead, Nathan leaned back against his pillows, his eyes glassy and half-lidded. His voice came out soft. "You...helped me...?"

"Y...yeah..." Max replied.

"Why?" Nathan asked.

Warren and Max glanced at each other. "Well...why wouldn't we?" Warren asked. "I mean...you were clearly not feeling well earlier, but Mrs. Hoida wouldn't do anything...so we decided to make sure you didn't get hurt or something..."

"It was something any normal human being with a soul would do."

Nathan closed his eyes shut tight. "No...that's not something any normal human would do..."

Max and Warren looked at each other once again. Nathan sunk back down to his bed, curling up on his side.

The next words he whispered were so quiet, the two thought they imagined them. "Thank...you..."

"What?" Max and Warren asked simultaneously.

Nathan cracked an eye open. "Don't make me repeat it..." he said, before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep once more.

Max and Warren skipped the rest of their classes for the day, and Warren left only once (to retrieve the school nurse). And even after the nurse quickly dosed him with something that was supposed to help with the shakes and seizures, they still didn't leave his side.

They, in fact, didn't leave his side until he woke up once again, cursing them out for still being in his room.

* * *

 ** _I hope you enjoyed this! I certainly enjoyed writing it!_**

 ** _And I most definitely ship the 3TP of Nathan/Max/Warren now._**

 ** _Thank you for reading! Please review, if you so desire!_**


End file.
